Tate's 3-Year Newsletter

Dear Tate,

It is only a couple weeks past your 3rd birthday, and as cliche as it may sound, I can't believe how quickly you grew from a baby to a strong willed, opinionated, independent kid. This past year has been a whirlwind of events that I am sure you will have little memory of when you are older.

You started off the year as a sweet and funny only-child and you are ending it as a sweeter, funnier big brother. You are bigger, taller and have lost almost all of your babyness. We live in a new house in a new city and you attend a new school.

The year started with me being astonished at how well you could put together 3 to 5 word sentences and it is ending with my amazement at how you express yourself with complex thoughts, you know your phone number, can spell 4 or 5 words and identify every letter in the alphabet, as well as sing the entire song "Route 66" (with and without the music) and every other song on the Cars Soundtrack - verbatim.

The singing is one thing about you that hasn't changed. And if it has, it is only that you love to do it more. Singing is something you do everyday, several times throughout the day, for as long as I can remember - before you could really even talk. You sing songs you learn at school, songs you hear on the radio, and songs you make up. You sing for attention, you sing while you are playing alone, you sing in the bathtub, and you sing for strangers on demand. And dancing . . . it generally accompanies the singing. I just hope that your rhythm improves as rapidly as the singing. If you end up with my genes on this, I am sorry to report you are destined to be tone-deaf and rhythm challenged.

Your manners are another area where we have seen unbelievable change. Like every parent, I am constantly reminding you to say "please" and "thank you", to learn to ask for things politely, to say excuse me, and every other thing that makes a child polite. And, though it seems like I have reminded you a million times on these "rules of politeness", I have seen some major breakthroughs, and I think that some of it may actually be sticking. One of my proudest moments as a parent came a couple of weeks before this past Christmas. We were in Michaels Craft store and the aisle were stuffed with wreaths and garland and every other Christmas trim. It was late, getting close to dinner, and I was flirting with disaster by having you in this situation. Just then, an older woman found herself in the same cramped aisle as us, needing to pass. You did not notice that she was trying to pass and when I asked you to move out of her way, you turned around and said, more maturely than most adults, "Oh, I'm sorry. Excuse me please." You simulatneously melted both our hearts. I was so proud at that moment to be your mother.

There are so many things that I want to tell you about you, like your obession with the number 5 and how it took me some time to figure out that when you said you wanted "five orange juice" that this meant that you wanted me to fill it to the top. And, when asked how many you want of something, it is always five. Or, how from the minute you picked up a golf ball you have been addicted to the sport, amazing not only your dad, but nearly every golfer that happens by when you are practicing in the backyard. Or, how you sometimes have a hard time when we drop you off at school, and you proceed to throw yourself on the ground and kick and scream. But, what you don't know is that I wait in the lobby, listening and waiting for you to calm down, and how it takes every ounce of self-control to not walk in there and take you home with me - because I know that would make it stop. Or, how I am constantly amazed by how well you know your surroundings, so much so I am certain that you could give a stranger accurate directions to our house.

You amaze me every day. You make me laugh every day. Everyday I look forward to what you are going to teach me about me. And everyday, I love you a little more.
I love you, love you, love you - forever and ever,
Mama